More Than Just the Silver Cat
by Tara Terra
Summary: A one-shot about Stormfur and Brook.


This one-shot is about one of my favorite warrior pairings, Stormfur and Brook Where Small Fish Swim. Depending on the reactions to this one-shot I may make a fanfic out of this pairing. Enjoy and please review!

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At first, it was just because he was supposed to be the silver cat. I was as terrified as any other Tribe cat of Sharptooth, terrified that I would be next, or some cat that I loved, and I was desperate for some cat to save us. My older brother, Talon, and two more of my Tribemates had been selected to go and kill Sharptooth. No more had been heard from them for several moons, and they were suspected to be dead.

So I was relieved - not to mention intrigued - when the six strangers turned up. There was one silver cat. The whole Tribe rejoiced, but the six cats seemed confused.

I should have told him, I admit it. We should have told all of them. But we were scared that they would find the task too daunting and leave us to our fate.

When he found out... he was heartbroken. He thought I had used him. But I hadn't. I tried to approach the other five cats, but the small dark grey tom spat at me, and the ginger she-cat raised her hackles, while the older three turned away from me. They all thought that I had betrayed him.

But I didn't care that he was the silver cat. I didn't care. I loved the way he hunted, like he had lived in the mountains all his life. I loved the ripple of his dark grey pelt, silver in moonlight. I loved the warmth in his amber eyes when he looked at me... Well, the warmth in his eyes when he _used_to look at me.

We let the other five cats go, but he had to stay. It tugged at my heart, because he was so sad. I wanted him to leave, if that would make him happy.

Then he escaped.

I was glad that he was with his friends again - but fearful. Now there was no legendary silver cat, destined to destroy Sharptooth. Now all our days would be lived out in fear. I was also miserable, because he had left thinking me a traitor. I longed for him to gaze at me with those tawny eyes once again. I longed to share caught-prey with him after a day of hunting. I longed to give the close comfort with him - or as he called it, 'sharing tongues'.

He came back of his own accord only a few days later. The five other journeying cats were with him - as well as Talon, Rock, and Bird! I could hardly believe my eyes. Stoneteller was angry, of course, because he had banished them until they had defeated Sharptooth. But no other cat minded.

Talon had a plan. A plan to lure Sharptooth to the cave, so that we could kill him.

But that was the night we found out that he wasn't the silver cat at all.

Sharptooth was dead, but no cat was joyful. Every cat mourned for her death - the _real_ silver cat. The small dark grey tom looked especially grief-stricken. And somehow, I just knew that I was forgiven. It was an unspoken agreement, but he just came up to me, raw sorrow in his eyes, and pressed his fur against mine. That was the only light moment of the whole night.

When he and his five - no, _four_ - friends left our Tribe, I still wished for him back. But I knew that he no longer thought of me as disloyal to him. The thought comforted me. As long as he was happy, so was I.

So I could hardly believe my eyes when he returned. There were many more of them this time, and they were all looking for a new home. Apparantly, their old one had been destroyed. I didn't really understand it, but I was just delighted at his return.

As the time of their departure drew nearer, my spirits sank lower and lower. I asked him if we could go on just one more hunting trip together, to which he agreed.

"Brook," he mewed to me, after we had brought down an eagle, "can we talk?"

I nodded, confused but willing. "Of course."

He sat down. He blinked a few times, and took a deep breath, as though willing himself to say something. "I want to stay with the Tribe," he burst out suddenly. "If Stoneteller will have me, of course."

I was taken aback. "But your home is with RiverClan!" My protests were feeble. Inside I was singing like a bird, joy bubbling up inside me. He wanted to stay, he wanted to stay, he wanted to stay...

He shook his head. "No. My mother is dead. My sister is dead. My father has been captured by Twolegs, and is most likely dead. I feel more at home in the mountains than I do next to the riverbank."

"What about the friends you journeyed with? Squirrelpaw, Brambleclaw? Tawnypelt? Crowpaw?"

He shrugged. "Once we divide into our seperate territories in our new home I'll have to say goodbye to them anyway."

I studied his face carefully. I think that this was more difficult for him than he was letting on. I padded over to sit next to him. "You're absolutely sure?"

He looked up and nodded once. "My home is among the rocks, and narrow paths of the mountain. And more importantly, Brook Where Small Fish Swim," he paused for a heartbeat, "My home is with you."

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I hope you liked it and be sure to review this and to read my other stories as well.


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